


All About U(s)

by michaely



Series: Ain't Ever Getting Older [4]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: #thankswarren, Alternate Ending, Alternate Timelines, Amberprice explodes, Amnesia, Can Max play catchup?, F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship/Love, Frisky Rachel is best Rachel, Love Triangles, Max strikes back!, Max the rock star, Maybe it's already over lol, Prom, Rachel almost earns us an M rating, Rachel strikes first, The ship name for Brooke and Steph is D&D (Drones & Dragons), Time Travel, Unrequited Love, Warren the ruiner ruins everything, amberprice, anyone want the mercy rule for Max?, just warning you guys there's gonna be some Warren here too, karaoke girls, on her birthday!, pricefield, that's not a sexual euphemism, the most smut I've written in a while, what if Chloe actually confronted Rachel about Frank?, which is still not all that much TBH, y'all didn't know you wanted Brooke and Steph but trust me you want Brooke and Steph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaely/pseuds/michaely
Summary: "Every heart in the room will melt. This is a feeling I've never felt." - All About Us, He Is We ft. Owl CitySimply put, Pricefield vs. AmberpriceIn a new timeline created by an alternate ending to my previous work, "This Feeling," Max rewinds time further than intended, back to her early teen years. She makes amends by maintaining contact with Chloe, even as they continue to live far apart. Max also ousts Jefferson's schemes, saving Rachel and countless other young girls. While Max and Chloe remain an integral part of each other's lives, the physical distance between them prevents the friendship from evolving into full-fledged romance.On the other hand, after cracking the mystery of Rachel's mother, Chloe and Rachel have the emotional catalyst to pursue their relationship, which continues into senior year at Blackwell Academy. Max returns to Arcadia Bay to study at Blackwell, just in time for Chloe to suffer an accident which wipes her memory of these two girls. At first glance, it's as simple as Chloe regaining her memory and picking up where she left off with Rachel. But there are a few key facts that, if unearthed, could severely disrupt the life that's been established.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber & Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Series: Ain't Ever Getting Older [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819399
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue: Until the Time is Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this came when I just recently stumbled across this delightful duet by He Is We and Owl City. The song is so indicative of puerile romance, so I wanted to write something for these girls from back in the high school era. In contrast to the trilogy of Chainsmoking, Takeaway, and This Feeling, which centers around more adult themes, this one will be a little lighter and an overall breezier read.
> 
> I will try my best to have the proper first chapter by the end of today. I just wanted to get this setup out of the way right now. Hopefully it whets your collective literary appetites!

Steeling her will with a deep breath, Max raises her hand. For a short, almost imperceptible blip in time, everything freezes. If Max had blinked, she never would’ve noticed. But with her focus honed in like never before, she did notice, and so she’s emboldened to push even further.

This time, the world around her seems to protest a little. It actually takes a little while for all motions and forces and elements to grind to a halt. She could see the raindrops suspended in midair, the pedestrians caught in the middle of their gaits.

With one last push, all of it starts to move in reverse. Car exhaust flows into the tailpipes, people back their way into buildings while retracting their umbrellas. It’s working.

Like the receptionist said, Chloe had left not so long ago, so it actually doesn’t require too much of a rewind for the right taxi to come backing in. Even from a great distance, Max noticed the blue locks.

Just a little more now.

The car backs up into the parking spot right in front of the hostel, right in front of Max.

Max is so overjoyed to catch sight of Chloe’s face again, she doesn’t even notice the blood trickling from her nose.

She must’ve been more out of practice than originally thought. As the first drop of blood hits the pavement, so too does the entirety of Max’s body. With Max lying in a crumpled heap, the world’s machinations whirl around her.

* * *

She first notices the sensation of down pillow against the side of her face. That can’t be right. She had been on a sidewalk. She feels the rest of her body being cushioned by the foam of a mattress. She instinctively grasps with her right hand and finds cotton bedsheets. The bouncy synth beat of a pop song playing from her stereo starts to resound clearly in her ears.

_“Give me a moment before you go._

_There’s something you ought to know.”_

Her eyes flutter open soon afterward. Her nose is still wet with blood. Despite her vision still being hazy, she can make out a box of tissue on top of a structure she assumes is a nightstand. She plucks out a sheet and dabs at her nose.

_“Baby, now and forever, until the time is through,_

_I’ll be standing here.”_

More of her vision is coming into focus. She sees a mirror hung up on a near wall. She sits up in bed and swings her legs down over the edge. The oak floor feels cool on her bare feet. Wait, bare feet? She was wearing shoes. She’d been outside.

_“Waiting and never give up my faith in you._

_Trying to make it clear.”_

She approaches the mirror with a few wobbly steps. Noticing the flecks of red still around her nose, she wipes away the remaining traces of blood. It’s when her eyesight regains its full clarity that she lets out a shrill cry of shock. The face looking back at her from the mirror is indeed her own. It’s just that this face hasn’t been seen in years.

Absent any makeup, the brown freckles on her cheeks are even more evident. She turns her head to the side and notices that her auburn hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail, rather than the fringe-oriented style she had been accustomed to wearing in her adult years. On the plus side, her skin was free of the blemishes that had accumulated as a result of too much greasy pizza and bad coffee.

Daring now to fully scope out her surroundings, she recognizes this place immediately as her room in her parents’ house in Seattle. A Hawt Dawg Man figurine stands triumphantly on the glass top of her desk. The bookshelf is stuffed with offerings ranging from Isaac Adamson to Kenzaburo Oe to HP Lovecraft. There are posters on the wall for some of her favorite bands (High and Mighty Color, Gob, Jimmy Eat World) and movies (Lord of the Rings, 5 Centimeters Per Second, My Sassy Girl).

The digital clock hanging above the door displays:

**8:10 AM**

**MONDAY**

**Dec 21, 2009**

Her phone starts to rattle against the nightstand. She releases a sharp gasp in surprise. Walking back to bedside, she notices the caller ID reading “Chloe.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Max snatches up the device and plants it to her ear. “Chloe!”

“Oh...” is all Chloe can initially manage.

“It’s you!” Max cries out in relief.

“No, it’s the late Abraham Lincoln.”

Max almost weeps in joy at the return of Chloe’s sardonic wit.

“It’s, uh...” Chloe goes on, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Max clutches at her chest, the pang of guilt comes on so strong. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“So...” From the other end of the line, Chloe sighs hugely. “Shit, I didn’t’ actually expect you to pick up. I have no small talk topics prepared. Um, what are you doing for Christmas break?”

Max’s eyes light up. “I’m coming to Arcadia Bay!” She can almost sense Chloe raising that eyebrow of hers up to the roof.

“Are you sure?”

“My dad has some vacation time saved up. I’m gonna beg him to drive me. I’ll say this can be my Christmas present. The next two Christmas presents!”

“So you’re not gonna be getting Demon's Souls? Forget it then. Don’t wanna hang with you anymore,” Chloe teases.

“I’ll buy it with my allowance! We’ll play that and everything else you want to do. There’s so much to catch up on!”

“Oh. OK then! I’ll tell my mom to get out the spare bed.”

“Well...” Max purses her lips. As if she needed any more confirmation that she’s always been awkward at this. “I mean, I don’t want her to go to the trouble. Lugging around that heavy piece of furniture and all...”

A beat of silence on the other line. “Are you just being weird on purpose?”

Max chuckles. “I’m just super excited to see you again.”

“In that case, might as well get your bony ass on the road ASAP.”

“Aye aye, Captain Bluebeard!”

With a rejuvenated determination, Max bursts out of her bedroom and bounds down the steps.

_“Now and forever,_

_I_ _will be here for you_

_Until the time is through.”_


	2. Pictures of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first proper chapter of plot development. It is in this time frame when we'll be spending most of our time.
> 
> As you read through, perhaps you will recognize the general premise as being similar to Gabrielle Zevin's YA novel, Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac. I actually have never read a word of the original story. I only know about general plot from glancing over Emma Roberts's filmography one day. She apparently was in a movie adaptation of the book. Imagine my surprise when I saw that Emma Roberts was in a Japanese film. I have a high-key crush on Emma Roberts, I feel like this is the appropriate time for me to let you guys know that about me.

September 1, 2013, 4:07 pm

With the picturesque Oregon scenery whizzing by, the sparse notes of the piano intro play out from the car radio.

_"This is the clock upon the wall._

_This is the story of us all."_

Max sits cross-legged atop the middle knuckle on the left hand of the famous Fremont Troll. Kristen stands next to her, hand placed on the troll’s nose. Fernando squats on the other hand, bracing himself against the troll’s chest.

Swipe.

Max in the stands of the accesso ShoWare Center. She’s wearing a Thomas Hickey jersey as the local Thunderbirds battle it out on the ice with the rival Spokane Chiefs.

Swipe.

Chloe beams a toothy grin at the camera. A pirate’s cap with skull and crossbones emblazoned on the front sits atop her long mane of brown hair. Max stands beside her, wearing a meek grin and an eyepatch.

Swipe.

Max, Chloe, and Rachel are cramped together in one seat on the Pacific Wheel. Rachel holds the phone to snap the picture and gives her effortless supermodel smile. Chloe sticks out her tongue while Max tries her best to look casual despite her terror at being suspended more than 10 stories in the air. The gorgeous Santa Monica Pier sprawls out behind them.

“Here we are,” announces Ryan Caulfield.

Max looks up from her phone to find that they’ve already arrived in the parking lot of Blackwell Academy. Atop the stairs leading up to the main campus, Chloe and Rachel are already waiting.

Ryan pulls his Toyota 4Runner into an open spot, but before Max can even open the passenger door, Chloe has already leapt down the steps. Max has hardly set her sneakers down onto the asphalt before Chloe ensnares her in a tight embrace. Max can’t help but giggle. Chloe even manages to lift Max straight up off her feet, to which Max replies with a giddy yelp.

Rachel has come down to join them by the time Chloe has released Max.

“Aagh! You’re finally back!” Chloe exclaims while tussling Max’s auburn hair. “Oh, and good to see you too, Mr. C.”

Ryan gives an amused nod in Chloe’s direction.

“Mr. Caulfield,” Rachel addresses him in a more composed manner, “Thanks so much for getting our Max back to us safe and sound.”

“Yeah, thanks again, dad,” Max says. “No way I could’ve made that drive by myself.”

“Just taking my last chance for some quality time. It’s gonna be tough being away from ya for so long, but I trust you’ll be in good hands.”

“Absolutely,” Rachel assures him. “Blackwell’s been great to me these last four years. I know Max came here primarily because she wanted to study photography, and there’s gonna be a great program this year.”

“Well, I can’t claim to know much about photography,” Ryan replies, “I am just thankful that maniac didn’t end up working here. Can’t believe the torture he was putting his own students through.”

“Thank goodness the anonymous tip came in,” Rachel says. “Saved that poor girl from Salem and god knows how many others in the future.”

You were almost one of them, Max thinks to herself.

“But like you said, Mr. Caulfield, I’m thankful that crisis was averted. The guy they hired instead, Mr. Yelchin, is amazing,” Rachel goes on. “He recently had an exhibit at Spazio Field in Rome.”

“Wow, as if I needed any more reason to be intimidated,” Max exclaims.

“Don’t worry, I met him at new faculty orientation. He’s a gentleman to boot,” Rachel clarifies.

“And hey, I was here for a year,” Chloe chimes in, “And I can say...that, um...” she wracks her brain for a contribution to this conversation, “The cafeteria serves shepherd’s pie on Thursdays. How about that?”

Rachel laughs aloud. “Yes, there’s so very much to look forward to.”

Ryan opens the car trunk and starts removing Max’s belongings. “Sorry again that I can’t help with the move-in. Your mother’s expecting me back pretty quick. She’s already having me start the remodel of your bedroom into our yoga studio.”

“Ha ha,” Max replies facetiously. “There better not be one speck of dust moved when I come back for Thanksgiving break.”

“We got it handled, Mr. Caulfield,” Rachel states. “We’re an unstoppable team. Like Charlie’s Angels.”

“Wait, aren’t we the Powerpuff Girls?” Max contests.

“No, I thought we were Betty, Veronica, and Cheryl from the Archie comics,” Chloe gestures to Max, Rachel, and herself, respectively.

“Then who is supposed to be Archie?” Rachel inquires.

“How about your little boy toy, Warren?” Chloe prods mischievously.

“I already told you, I was in a weird time in my life back then,” Rachel counters.

“I’ll let you ladies figure it out among yourselves,” Ryan cuts in.

After the entirety of Max’s luggage has been unloaded, Ryan exchanges hugs with the trio and climbs back into his SUV. He gives a sturdy wave to the three of them before driving off.

The three girls do their best to haul the various suitcases and bags up to the dorms. They run across Trevor and Justin attempting ollies on the campus, and the two boys offer some assistance. Even Warren is able to carry a couple of backpacks with his ramen noodle arms.

It takes a couple hours to put in place all of Max’s knickknacks, hang up her clothes, put the sheets on her bed, etc. Max makes the finishing touch by placing a framed photo on her desk. This one is from her sweet sixteen, when Chloe and Rachel drove all the way to Seattle in that beat-to-shit pickup and surprised her in the evening with a black forest gateau baked by Joyce. In the picture, the three of them are gathered around the cake, all of them wearing goofy cone-shaped party hats. Sixteen candles are strewn across the cake’s surface. Max looks ahead and smiles while Chloe plants a kiss on her right cheek and Rachel on her left.

“Simpler times, huh?” Rachel remarks.

“ _Natsukashii ne_ ,” Chloe chimes in.

Max feels herself getting warmed by the fond memories, but then another sensation kicks in even stronger. Her stomach grumbles fiercely in protest.

“Worked up an appetite, have we?” Chloe asks.

“Yeah I guess so,” says a blushing Max.

“I’ll go pick something up at Two Whales. Double bacon cheeseburger, extra pickles, and tater tots?” Chloe checks with Max.

“You got it.” Max is delighted that Chloe can still recall such details.

“And you, my dear,” Chloe turns to Rachel and scoops her up into her slender arms. “Fried chicken and onion rings.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Rachel calls out. “I have been looking forward to cheat day all week. And a double chocolate malt with EXTRA whipped cream.”

“Sure thing.” Chloe gives Rachel a tender peck on the lips.

Max diverts her gaze and rubs the back of her neck in unease.

“Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.” Chloe grabs her denim jacket and keys to her truck as she exits into the hall.

As Chloe disappears into the stairwell, Max realizes just how few instances there have been where she’s alone with Rachel. With Chloe as the lubricant, things were always easy breezy, but Max honestly finds it startlingly uncomfortable right now.

Luckily Rachel is ever the master of social grace. “I’m glad we could all reunite like this. Chloe always talks about how much she misses having you around. I think we can really make this the best year ever.”

Officially put back at ease, Max smiles warmly back at Chloe. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this since I got that acceptance letter. I’ll confess, though, I was a little nervous about being back here full time.”

“Oh? How come?”

“Well, you guys have grown up together and made your own life basically. I keep feeling like I’m the annoying little sibling begging to tag along to everything.”

“Hey,” Rachel places a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder. “Don’t ever think like that. Chloe and I are both so glad to have you back. We want you here, and like I said, we’re going to have the best time.”

Max gives her a resolute nod. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

Rachel gives Max’s shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

The moment is interrupted by the sound of clanging glass in the hallway. Victoria Chase comes walking by with a large black tote bag hanging on her shoulder. She’s trying her best (and largely failing) to keep an inconspicuous expression on her face. She tries to sneak out of view, but not before Rachel calls out, “Oh, Victoria.”

Victoria stops dead in her tracks and rolls her eyes. “What?”

Rachel walks out to the hallway. “Are we taking out a large batch of recyclables tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is,” Victoria replies in disgruntlement.

Rachel points to the bag. “Open it.”

“Who do you think you are?” Victoria shoots back.

“As the resident advisor of this hall, if I were to write a report of suspected contraband, the security team may have reason to look a little deeper into your room.”

With a deep huff, Victoria unzips her bag. There’s a veritable cornucopia of booze with bottles of Grey Goose, Bailey’s, and Jameson, plus a six pack of Stella Artois.

“Hm,” Rachel regards this excitedly. She reaches in and pulls out three beers. “Consider this your tribute.”

Victoria scowls fiercely.

“Off you go. Tata.” Rachel shoos Victoria away. Victoria turns on her heels, snapping her head forward and whipping around that blonde fringe of hers, before stomping away into her room.

With a delighted laugh, Rachel walks back into the room and places the beers into Max’s mini-fridge.

Max notices a buzzing from Rachel’s phone, which had been placed on her desk earlier. “Rachel? There’s a...Frank calling for you?”

Rachel’s eyes widen in shock. She rushes over to the desk, double time, and grabs her phone. “Um...” Rachel shields the phone from Max with both hands. “I actually have to take this. Do you mind?”

Max wonders what could possibly leave the typically unflappable Rachel so flustered. “No, it’s fine.”

Rachel storms out the door and retreats to the stairwell.

* * *

It didn’t take too long for Chloe to return with the food. She had barged into Two Whales and hastily grabbed the order from her mother, only bothering to call out “Add it to my tab!” as she kicked the door open to exit.

Now approaching the stairs leading up from the parking lot, Chloe’s got the container of Rachel’s chicken and onion rings balanced on her left hand, a cup holder with three sodas and the chocolate malt in her right, plus a bag of burgers and tater tots clenched in her teeth. She feels her phone vibrating in her back pocket. Letting out a groan past the paper bag in her mouth, Chloe, who by now is actually trying to climb the stairs, gingerly places the container on top of the cups. She reaches into her pocket and grips her phone. Looking down at the screen, she sees a message from Frank Bowers.

“PRICE. Need to talk. NOW.”

With her eyes fixed on the message, Chloe doesn’t see the gravel that had been spilled at the top step. She plants her boot down way too hard and her foot slips out from under. The food flies everywhere. Chloe reels back, head slamming into the sharp edge of the bottom step.

* * *

“Thanks again for staying late to practice,” says Warren Graham as he walks across the lawn of the Blackwell Campus, Brooke Scott by his side. He has his Fender strapped to his back.

“Absolutely. I was really excited when you asked me.”

“Your vocals are starting to sound really good.”

“You think so?” Brooke asks eagerly.

“Totally. We’re gonna go ape on those other groups at Battle of the Bands.”

“You know,” Brooke offers, “We could practice somewhere else too.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Like...my house. My mom’s making tempura udon on Thursday. You wanna come over for dinner?”

“What the--” Warren runs down the steps.

Brooke shrieks in fright when she sees Chloe lying sprawled out across the steps. A deep red trickles out from the back of her head.

“Call an ambulance now!” shouts Warren, cradling Chloe’s shattered head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering all the emphasis on photography in LiS, I feel like I've exercised quite a bit of restraint in not using the "Pictures of You" song until now.
> 
> How come Chloe can speak Japanese? Check out a previous entry in this series "Takeaway."
> 
> Wait, Warren and Rachel? Like, together? Yes, please read "Fireflies from Forever Ago," which takes place in the same universe but not affiliated with the events of this series.


	3. So Into You

Max falls asleep far earlier than intended. Not that you could blame her, since the routine for the past three days had been grueling. She’s had to somehow power her way through classes (while starting at a new school, no less, so it wasn’t as if she could just do it all on autopilot), then hop straight into Rachel’s blue Corvette to head to the hospital. Then the two girls would stand vigil, waiting for some encouraging sign of vitality from Chloe until they finally surrendered to sleep.

Joyce and David took time off work and stayed in the room while Max and Rachel were at school. The girls insisted that Chloe’s parents at least return home during the evenings to get some proper rest.

This afternoon, as soon as she seats herself in the chair at Chloe’s bedside, Max feels all her limbs become onerously heavy. She slumps over at the foot of the bed and immediately dozes off. Rachel steps out for a moment to get coffee from the cafeteria.

Max stirs at the rustling of sheets. Her eyes flutter open. She can see the undulating motion of the blanket placed over Chloe. She’s rotating her ankles and weakly kicking out her feet.

A surge of adrenaline rushes through her body and Max shoots up out of her seat, knocking the chair back in the process. She rushes over to get face to face with Chloe, who continues to struggle with lifting her eyelids.

“Chloe!” Max calls out “Can you hear me? Please! Are you OK?”

All Chloe can offer is a disoriented groan.

Max hears the door opening behind her. Rachel steps in with her paper cup of coffee, and Max immediately shouts to her, “Call the nurse!”

Snapping to attention herself, Rachel runs out into the hallway. “We need help here!”

By now Chloe is at least able to pull her eyes halfway open.

“Chloe, please say something,” implores Max.

Max and Rachel remain stock still as they wait for any response from Chloe. In the end, all that manages to escape from her dry throat is a weak utterance of “Who?”

For Chloe, all that she can process about this scene is the image of the girl with gentle, pleading blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Her auburn hair is matted a bit messily across her brow. As more of Chloe’s vision comes into focus, she sees the other girl standing further behind. She’s got some piercing hazel eyes, and her silky strawberry blond hair cascades elegantly down her back. Chloe can conjure up no further insight about the two figures before her. The intensity of their critically concerned stares makes her feel like she’s a cornered animal. She pulls the blanket further over herself.

To break up the deadlock between the three, a crew of medical staff bursts into the room.

“Give us some space, please,” the nurse instructs Rachel and Max, who both have no choice but to step back from the one girl they’ve been intently focused on for the last several days. The medical staff jot down notes, take readings from the monitoring instruments, and conduct general poking and prodding on Chloe.

Soon thereafter, a lanky, dark-skinned man in a lab coat joins them in the room. His thick mane of jet black hair is showing streaks of white. Some deep bags are sagging under his eyes. He nods curtly as the nurse updates him in a hushed tone. The other medical attendants file out of the room after the nurse.

“Greetings,” the man addresses the three girls. “My name is Rajeev Gupta. I am the Head of Neurology.”

Never one to belabor the point, Rachel jumps straight into what she wants. “Dr. Gupta, she’s not acting herself. Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

Dr. Gupta shuffles over to Chloe’s bedside. With as warm of a smile as he can muster, he offers up a pleasant “Hi” to Chloe.

Chloe is still far too tense to return the greeting.

“Can you tell me your name?” Gupta gently nudges.

The reply doesn’t come as naturally as it should for Chloe. She has to use knowledge of immediate events to actually come up with the answer. “She...” Chloe points to Max. “She said ‘Chloe.’”

“And who is she?” Gupta digs further.

Chloe stares blankly back at Max.

“Her?” Gupta motions to Rachel.

Chloe tries probing into every recess of her consciousness and still comes up with nothing.

“Do you remember your birthday? Parents’ names? What city are we in now?”

Chloe is stunned at how many blanks she’s pulling.

The doctor sighs hugely. He turns back to Max and Rachel. “I reviewed the results of MRI, CT, and EEG before coming here. That information, paired with my observation just now, leads me to believe this is RA, retrograde amnesia. Ms. Price has lost access to knowledge of what has happened in her life prior to her head trauma.”

“Amnesia?” Rachel repeats in incredulity. “Any other tropes the world cares to throw at us?” She asks with a scoff.

Ever the fixer type, Max steps in. “What can we do to help, Dr. Gupta?”

“Ms. Caulfield, I have to make it clear this is not quite what you are familiar with in the movies. You cannot simply compel a person to remember. The human brain is too complex of a construct for that kind of simplistic cause and effect model. In my admittedly limited experience in such cases, I’ve found that patients need their own time to go through their own process if the condition is to resolve itself.”

Rachel throws up her hands in frustration. “So we’re just stuck waiting?”

“I understand you are not liking this feeling of helplessness, Ms. Amber. But rest assured there is still value in offering reminders to her. You and Ms. Caulfield have been diligently by her side for the last several days. You both must have been close to her for a very long time. If nothing else, it could be a great source of comfort for her to know that she has been able to have people in her life who care so deeply for her. It should make her very happy to know that she’s been leading a life of joy and love.”

She still isn’t entirely content with her lack of control over the situation, but Rachel can see the glimpses of reason in Gupta’s suggestions. She eventually nods back in confirmation.

“I would like to keep her here for observation until tomorrow evening,” Gupta continues. “In the meantime, I will have to insist that you both return home.”

“What?” With a scowl on her face, Rachel takes a heavy step toward Gupta.

Max is far less confrontational in her response, but the grimace she exhibits indicates she doesn’t want to leave Chloe now either.

Gupta remains dug in. “Ms. Price should be free from distraction during the initial stages of her recovery. And if the two of you intend to make serious contributions in that respect, you’ll operate better after some proper rest.”

Rachel taps her foot anxiously as she continues to stare back at Gupta.

Max once again reinstates some calm and order. “He’s right, Rachel. We have to take our time with this. Getting impatient will only make you more frustrated, and that won’t help us do our best.”

In acknowledgment of the soundness of Max’s reasoning, Rachel unfolds her arms and untenses her face.

“I’ll let you have a moment alone to say your goodbyes,” Gupta announces. He then makes his way out of the room.

Rachel walks back to Chloe and sits down on the mattress to look her deep in her cool blue eyes. “My name is Rachel. We...” Rachel sniffles while wiping a lone tear from her cheek. Her words get temporarily choked back as she has to stifle further sobs. With another deep breath, she feels ready to go on, “I am so in love with you, Chloe Price. I realize that this sounds really scary coming from what is essentially a complete stranger. But the way I feel for you, it is so much of who I am as a person. These last three years, I’ve found myself in my feelings for you. If you forget about that, forget about me, that means I’d lose myself. So please, just know now that I love you. Can you try to hold on to that?”

Chloe somewhat surprises herself with her response. Rachel was right, to be confronted with such an intense outpouring of emotion from a person who Chloe is meeting basically for the first time, that should be terrifying. But somehow, this blond girl with the piercing hazel eyes has such an infectious passion in how she speaks. Chloe finds herself captivated. Somehow, this has become important to her too.

Chloe reaches out to Rachel’s hand placed on the blanket. Chloe gives it a light squeeze and smiles back in assurance. “I’ll try,” is her response, surprisingly clear in its conviction.

Rachel sighs contentedly, her spirit bolstered by the reciprocation of her earnestness. She gets back to her feet and starts gathering her belongings.

Chloe now glances expectantly at Max. Surely there was something the dark-haired girl with the smattering of freckles wanted her to know too?

“I...” Max begins, but it isn’t too long until her self-doubt causes all her myriad sentiments to jumble hopelessly in her head. Eventually, she can only settle on “I’ll help you get better. I promise.”

Despite the sparse words, Chloe can still sense how genuine Max’s intentions are. Chloe feels equally touched by Max’s sincerity.

“Thank you,” is Chloe’s response.

With that, the three girls give their final waves of goodbye. The door clicks shut behind Max and Rachel as they leave the room. Chloe’s return to consciousness was filled with noise and confusion. Now left with just the humming of the air conditioner and the occasional beeps from the various medical equipment, Chloe feels safe enough to return to sleep.

* * *

The following afternoon, a middle-aged man with a tight buzz cut and neatly trimmed mustache appears in Chloe’s room. He identifies himself as “David Madsen, your stepdad.” He bears an offering of a bouquet of lilies from the hospital’s gift shop.

“Where’s my father?” Chloe asks as she receives the flowers.

David purses his lips and rubs the back of his neck. “He...” David leans against the railing at the foot of Chloe’s bed. “He died. Car accident, about five years ago.”

Chloe is certainly stunned at the revelation. Her reaction is defined mostly by her shock about how this person who’s supposed to be so integral in her life just simply isn’t there. It’s a strange way of reacting to this kind of news, Chloe considers. For most people, their grief comes from the realization that the special bond is no longer going to be shared, that the memories they have made with that person will be all that’s ever left. Without the understanding of her bond with her father and without the memories of what she and her dad shared, Chloe at least doesn’t have to go through the same agony most people suffer from.

“I’ll let your mother fill you in about him,” David explains. “He was truly a good man. He deserves his story to be told in the best way possible.”

* * *

Chloe stares blankly out the car window during the ride home. She doesn’t know which of these sights are supposed to have meaning to her, which of these she has some kind of connection with. As a result, the scenery simply washes over her and dissipates.

Having grown uncomfortable at the silence, David switches on the radio.

_“Let them say we’re crazy._

_What do they know?_

_Put your arms around me,_

_Baby, don’t ever let go.”_

“Sorry!” David reaches for the tuner.

“No it’s OK,” Chloe assures him.

David had acted on instinct. “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” was his and Joyce’s wedding song, and he had recalled how Chloe, for whom the wedding was not always a cherished memory, started many arguments anytime he played it.

Understanding just how much of a profound change this was for Chloe, David speaks again. “I know you don’t remember, but I was a soldier before coming to Arcadia Bay.”

“Thanks. For your service,” is Chloe’s automatic reply.

“Uh, sure. You’re welcome. I’m bringing that up because I’ve been through and I’ve seen...” David heaves a deep sigh, “Just terrible things. The damage all that’s done to me, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to talk about or even fully understand. But if I’m here now trying my best to cling to some semblance of a normal life, it’s because I’ve always tried to find some reason in all the senseless cruelty and evil that I’ve been around. ‘Even mushroom clouds have silver linings,’ is what I’ve heard.”

“Not a bad way to think about it,” Chloe answers.

“What you’re going through right now, I wish it didn’t happen. But ever since the day of the accident, I’ve been considering what the reason behind all this is supposed to be.”

“Did you come up with something?”

“You and I...” David chuckles to himself as he tries to find a way to put lightly all the nastiness and resentment that’s occurred between them. “We have not had the most functional relationship.”

“Oh...”

“I realize now that as a grown man I should’ve taken much more responsibility to lead this family in a way that would benefit us all.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t have been perfect either.”

“Regardless of where the blame is supposed to go, my point is that misery between you and me no longer has to be part of your life. You’re starting over. Now whatever relationships form between you and me or between you and anybody else, you can take complete control. And who knows? Without the baggage of the past, you probably can make all of that even better.”

Chloe turns David’s words over in her mind several times. It’s going to be a huge task, for sure, but maybe David is right about the possibility of building a life that’s better than before.

* * *

Before David even opens the front door to the Madsen-Price house, Joyce is already rushing out from the kitchen. Chloe steps past the threshold and is immediately ensnared in Joyce’s embrace. After confirming no new damage on Chloe, Joyce leads the two into the dining room. Atop the table sits chicken pot pie, green bean casserole, meatloaf, cheese souffle, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, sausages with peppers, and fried pickles. And that’s just what’s on the table. Chloe can see the oven still running.

“Whoa,” Chloe exclaims with a chuckle. “Is the rest of the neighborhood joining us for dinner?”

Joyce and David both laugh, hopeful that Chloe’s humor can be a sign she’s regaining some normalcy.

Joyce explains, “As soon as I found out you were coming home, I started remembering all your favorites. I began cooking and just didn’t stop, I guess.”

“No pot roast, I see,” David points out.

“Hit your own head, then we’ll talk about the damn pot roast,” Joyce shoots back.

“I’ve been living off IV drip and green jello all day,” Chloe says. “All this looks fantastic.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” David offers.

“Your favorite used to be seltzer and raspberry,” Joyce states.

“Sounds great,” Chloe responds as she runs her hands under the hot water of the kitchen sink.

* * *

“I just couldn’t get that engine to turn over for the life of me,” David recalls. “And all the while there you were shouting at me, ‘It’s the sparkplug! The sparkplug, step-douche!’”

Joyce breaks out into hearty laughter.

Chloe’s eyes go wide. “Uh, wow, I feel like I was kind of a bitch to you 24-7.”

“Well the thing is,” David continues, “It was the sparkplug. I just didn’t check because my stubby fingers had trouble fitting in there.”

He and Chloe finally share a laugh between themselves.

David takes a sip of his Miller. “You were really great with cars, had yourself a gift. Maybe after things settle down a bit, we can start doing some work on the ole jalopy.”

“Sure, why not?” Chloe replies.

“More peach cobbler, dear?” Joyce offers.

“No thank you,” Chloe says politely. “I am officially stuffed.”

Joyce nods in self-satisfaction.

“I think I wanna just turn in for tonight,” Chloe announces.

“Of course,” Joyce smiles, glad to have brought some comforts of the past life to her daughter. “David and I will clean up, just go ahead and get some sleep.”

“Thanks mom. David.” Chloe kisses her mom on the cheek and offers up her hand to David. He shakes it after overcoming his initial shock.

* * *

Upon first stepping in, Chloe is taken aback by the chaotic and rundown condition of her bedroom. Then again, at least there’s no pressure for her to keep it orderly, she thinks to herself. Curious about what she’s accumulated throughout this life that’s been lost, she takes her time surveying the surroundings, this scene preserved from an existence that she’s just now been dropped back into, completely blind. She takes in the height chart scribbled on the wall, the beige suitcase which for the moment is stuffed with empty beer bottles, the 1990’s era TV standing atop a spool being used as a makeshift table. Some other mementos she notices include a Polaroid of her hugging a man she assumes to be William (since “Me + Daddy” is written at the bottom), a drawing of The Power Girls (identified as Max and Chloe) and Super Kitty (although Chloe hadn’t noticed a cat in the house), and a copy of The Bad Grrl’s Guide To Gunz. Chloe can’t be sure if she was a firearm aficionado or if it has more to do with the cute brunette with the wicked tattoo sleeve on the front cover.

A rapping on her window snatches her attention. Kneeling on the roof outside the window is the blonde girl from the hospital, the one Chloe remembers as Rachel. Tonight, Rachel is dressed in a Fendi coat and devilishly tall candy apple red stilettos. Rachel waves to Chloe, who walks over and opens the window for her.

Rachel gives Chloe a sly grin, which momentarily sends Chloe’s heart jumping into her throat.

Rachel steps onto the desk by the window and gingerly climbs down. Chloe can’t help but notice how slender and shapely Rachel’s legs are as she steps down from the desk.

“You always come through the window?” Chloe asks.

“Only when I’m wanting some privacy,” Rachel clarifies. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better. Not so woozy. Still can’t remember anything, though.”

“Still nothing about you and me?”

Chloe shrugs her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Well, that’s kinda why I’m here. I remember the doctor mentioning that it would help you to get reminders of your past. And I’ve been breaking my head trying to come up with an idea of what that should be.” Rachel walks over to the HiFi, heels clicking on the wood floor. Flipping through a few of the albums in the nearby bookshelf, she settles on one and pops the CD into the stereo. She hits play.

_“I think you’re truly something special,_

_Just what my dreams are really made of.”_

Rachel turns to face Chloe again. Chloe finds that Rachel’s expression has shifted to a mischievous grin.

“I realized I’m thinking about it way too hard,” Rachel says while undoing the buttons on her coat. “There’s always been one thing that you and I never had trouble with.” She lets the coat slip off her shoulders, revealing a tight vermillion red bustier and matching cheekie panties.

Chloe draws a sharp gasp, but finds that her breath catches in her throat. Her heart thuds violently against her ribcage. As her pupils dilate, even the dim light from the simple lamp on her desk is almost blinding her.

Rachel strides past Chloe, who can catch traces of Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue perfume left in Rachel’s wake. The scent sears into Chloe’s sinuses.

Rachel sits down on the bed and crosses her legs with geometric precision. “Care to join me?” Rachel offers.

Willing her leaden legs back to action, Chloe takes a few plodding steps to the bed and sits next to Rachel.

Rachel scoots in even closer. She places a hand on Chloe’s cheek. Chloe is soothed at the smoothness of her touch.

“I’m yours,” Rachel states, no hesitation or fear in this sentiment. “Are you mine?”

“I...” Chloe needs a few more beats for the breath to return to her lungs. “I can be.”

“Good girl,” Rachel whispers, then plants her lips to Chloe’s.

Chloe feels every nerve in her body ignite. Effortlessly, Rachel slips in her tongue, Chloe moaning at the sensation.

Rachel leans Chloe back so that she’s lying down on the mattress. In a single, obviously practiced, motion which is essentially as simple as the snapping of her fingers, Rachel has undone the button to Chloe’s jeans.

As though this were the one signal that things are getting real, Chloe squirms out from under Rachel’s touch and bounds back up to her feet.

Still panting, Chloe hastily buttons up her jeans again. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just...” Chloe runs her fingers through her blue locks, moving some loose strands away from her eyes. “I basically just met you.”

“Yes. That is one way to interpret it.”

“Well, this to me feels more like some random, off-the-cuff fling. And I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. I wasn’t the type to just sleep around. Was I?”

“No. I have always respected that about you.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. And I’m sure I’m gonna be kicking myself for this later.”

Rachel giggles.

“But can we just have a little more time?” is Chloe’s humble request.

Taking a deep sigh of her own, Rachel has to shove down her sense of disappointment. “Sure. I respect that.”

“Thank you.”

Rachel tries to offer up as genuine of a smile as possible as she stands up from the bed. She again walks up close to Chloe, who once more feels frozen in her presence. Rachel gives a tender peck on Chloe’s cheek, yet still lingering to instill some sensuousness in the gesture.

Leaving one last devilish wink, Rachel climbs back out the window, disappearing into the night.

Chloe grabs a towel from her closet and runs an ice cold shower.


	4. All About U, part 1: The Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter than usual, but I hope the significance of this is clear enough for you guys to understand why this deserves its own special focus.

“Here.” Rachel holds out her hand. “I’ll hang it up for you.”

Chloe unzips her black hoodie. On this balmy night in mid-September, Chloe had chosen this article of clothing entirely at random, just something she blindly snatched from her closet while rushing out of the house on her way to American Rust Junkyard. The hoodie happens to be the same one she was wearing to that Firewalk concert at the old mill. Now three plus years later, Chloe’s wearing it to another first meeting of sorts with Rachel, who had promised “a proper date, finally.”

Rachel laughs to herself at the happenstance. Chloe lets the hoodie fall from her shoulders and tugs out her arms from the sleeves one by one. She hands the hoodie to Rachel, who slips it over a wire hanger. Rachel then walks to the far corner of the brick edifice and hangs it on a garment rack, which holds a few spare outfits that she keeps there in case she would be going to a party or concert.

“Have a seat,” Rachel offers. “Get relaxed.”

Chloe takes a few steps to the car seat which serves as the most comfortable chair in the room. She clears off a few empty beer bottles sitting atop the cushion before sitting down.

As Rachel retrieves the Nikon DSLR from her backpack, Chloe studies more of her surroundings. She notices the dartboard and collection of license plates, takes in the view of the railroad tracks out the window (which is more of just a hole in the wall), counts the various compacts and lipsticks that Rachel has left scattered about.

The click of Rachel’s camera wrests the attention of Chloe, who gives a startled “Huh?”

“Don’t worry,” Rachel assures, “Just a test shot.”

Chloe nods back.

“But I do want you to take off your beanie,” Rachel says, gesturing to Chloe’s choice of headwear.

Chloe grasps her beanie from the top and pulls it off her head. She throws it aside and uses her free hand to smooth out some loose strands of her hair.

Rachel is already lining up her next shot. Despite Rachel’s face being hidden behind her camera, Chloe still feels the full weight of Rachel’s gaze. Chloe lets her eyes wander, unable to bear looking back at the camera for an extended time.

After snapping another shot, Rachel lowers the camera, letting it hang from the strap around her shoulder. She gets up close to Chloe and casually brushes away some errant blue bangs from her face.

“Better,” Rachel remarks. As she makes some more adjustments on her camera, without even looking up at Chloe, she makes her next request, “Take off your shirt.”

Chloe’s jaw hangs slack. She blinks a few times in a stunned stupor, half expecting Rachel to come out with a “Just kidding!”

Instead, what she gets from Rachel is “It’s OK. I’ll fold it for you.”

Chloe has to check around to make sure she can’t spot any signs of some hidden camera crew.

“You know what?” Rachel recalls, “You always liked doing this with music.” She takes out the Bluetooth speaker from her backpack and cues up a track on her phone. Not long thereafter comes the folksy guitar intro.

_“I wish I_

_Could do better by_

_You ‘cause that’s what you deserve.”_

Chloe gets the feeling this is heading somewhere dangerous, but Rachel’s magnetic charm makes Chloe strangely intrigued to see exactly where this will lead.

Chloe takes hold of the hem of her black Jane Doe T-shirt and pulls it up over her head. She hands the shirt to Rachel, who, as promised, uses her deft hands to smoothly fold the it into a tidy package, neat enough to be displayed at any apparel store.

_“You sacrifice_

_So much of your life_

_In order for this to work.”_

Chloe finds herself instinctively folding her arms in front of her chest.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Rachel gently admonishes. “Take it easy. Sit up straight, chin tucked in. Hands on your lap.”

Something about the melodic and tranquil delivery of Rachel’s commands makes it feel so natural for Chloe to just follow along. As Chloe assumes the requested pose, another click from Rachel’s camera.

_“While I’m off chasing my own dreams,_

_Sailing around the world,”_

“This is looking so good,” Rachel says in delight. “Now your pants.”

_“Please know that I’m yours to keep,_

_My beautiful girl.”_

The only response Chloe has left is to chuckle in awkward desperation. Rachel just continues to stare forward with her head cocked slightly, as if she were merely asking Chloe to pass the salt at the dinner table.

“I’ll...” Chloe has to swallow the lump in her throat before being able to continue, “I’ll be naked.”

The relish in Rachel’s next words is evident, “That’s the idea.” Removing all pretense entirely, Rachel removes the strap from around her shoulder and sets down her camera on the spool that’s serving as a makeshift table.

Now finally able to drop her insecurities and instead resolving to have her own fun with this, Chloe speaks up again, “Look the other way.”

Rachel does as she’s asked and turns towards the opposite wall as she hums along with the song.

_“You don’t ask for no diamond rings,_

_No delicate string of pearls,”_

A grin creeps across Rachel’s face as she can hear the rustling of fabric from behind her.

_“That’s why I wrote this song to sing,_

_My beautiful girl.”_

Now her turn to be taken by surprise, Rachel gasps sharply as she feels her strawberry blond hair being swept behind her shoulder, then quickly comes the sensation of lips planted on her bare neck. Rachel reaches behind and gets her fingers tangled in Chloe’s blue locks. Chloe grabs Rachel by the hips and sends her pirouetting so that they can face each other. Before they can even lock eyes, Chloe has already placed her mouth to Rachel’s. Chloe reaches for the placket of Rachel’s red and black plaid shirt, then tears it open.

The buttons click and clack as they’re sent flying onto the concrete floor.

* * *

Chloe falls back onto the big yellow carpet with the image of the elephant and palm trees. She pants frantically as Rachel climbs up to rest her head on the crook of Chloe’s arm.

“OK...” Chloe says, still struggling to sufficiently fill her lungs, “I think we should stop. For safety reasons.”

Rachel laughs against Chloe’s bare chest. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I think I’m starting to get lockjaw.” Rachel rubs the muscles on the side of her mouth.

Chloe throws her head back in a guffaw.

The humming of the nearby space heater winds down, and the red glow dims to dark.

“Uh oh. You have to turn it back on,” Rachel says while pulling the white woolly blanket tight over her body.

“It’s freezing!” Chloe whines.

“I swear I did it the last time we were here!”

Chloe lets out a discontented growl and scrambles over to the heater. She winds the timer back to the max.

“Get me a cigarette too,” Rachel calls out.

Still shivering and tip-toeing so that she doesn’t have to feel the cold concrete on her feet, Chloe makes her way to Rachel’s backpack and takes out her pack of Marlboros and a disposable Bic lighter. She runs back to the carpet and nestles herself under the blanket again.

The girls sitting up huddled next to each other, Chloe holds up the cigarette in front of Rachel. Rachel moves to take it between her lips, but Chloe playfully pulls it away at the last moment. Chloe taps her own lips with the tip of the cigarette. Rachel twists around and throws herself on top of Chloe again.


	5. All About U, part 2: First Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you guys have lost track of the calendar, IRL it is Max Caulfield's 25th birthday!

Chloe laughs silently as the next track comes up on her playlist.

_“Do you remember_

_The twenty-first night of September?”_

Why, no, Mr. Maurice White, Chloe thinks to herself. I actually have no recollection whatsoever of September 21. What, pray tell, is supposed to be the significance of this date?

It isn’t the type of music she normally listens to, coming instead from one of William’s old mixes, but she finds herself bobbing her head along to the groovy chord progression.

The sun is beginning to set on the Blackwell Campus, so the student body is wrapping up their activities for the day. As she approaches the front entrance to the school, Chloe notices a crew hanging up a bright red banner hyping the upcoming Battle of the Bands. Victoria Chase is giving directions, and while Chloe’s headphones prevented her from hearing exactly what was being said, given Victoria’s histrionic gesturing, she clearly had some strong opinions on how the corners are supposed to be angled.

Chloe steps into the lobby and removes from her pocket the map that Max had hastily sketched on a napkin from Two Whales. Chloe takes a right, past Principal Wells’ office and the Art Classroom, finally coming upon Room 116. Max was already there, studiously laying out paper and pens on a table.

Max had not demonstrated the same kind of initiative as Rachel. From what Chloe has been able to gather, Max has always been the low-key type. Rather than pushing to make plans together, Max had so far limited herself to brief calls in between classes to check on Chloe’s condition and occasionally stopping by the Madsen-Price household for a family dinner. That being said, Chloe could always feel a charming earnestness in everything Max had to offer.

As Chloe opens up the door to the classroom, Max gives her typical sheepish grin in greeting.

“How are you feeling today?” Max inquires with genuine interest. Chloe finds herself appreciating the honest concern Max always seemed to show in her.

“That spot I banged against the steps is still hella tender,” Chloe rubs the back of her head, “But I’m getting way fewer headaches. Tell your friend who sent over the willow bark tea that it’s really working. What was her name? Kate?”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to let her know.”

“What do you got planned for us tonight, Max-a-roni?”

“Well, I was thinking about what Dr. Gupta mentioned, how we should be trying to get you back in the groove with things you used to do. And something you were especially amazing at was Japanese.” Max motions to the Genki series textbooks she had set out on the table. “I talked more with Dr. Gupta, and he made it clear, it’s not as though you’ve forgotten how to speak, just like you haven’t forgotten English. But you need some clear motivation to start using it regularly, and then it’ll start coming to you way more naturally.”

“OK, sure.” Chloe pulls up a chair to the table and sits down. “I was getting bored of swearing in English anyway.”

Max giggles as she takes a seat too. “Do you remember _shiritori_?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s the game where one person says a word, and whatever sound the word ends with, the other person has to say something that starts with the sound.”

“Correct. It’s a great way to review vocabulary. I’ll start.” Max takes a moment to glance over the list of vocabulary words in her textbook. “ _Ginkou._ ”

Chloe tries jogging her memory for a moment. “ _Kouen._ ”

“Ah, sorry. There aren’t any Japanese words that start with that ‘n’ sound.” Max points in her textbook to the hiragana symbol for ん. “It’s only for the endings of syllables.”

“Hmm. _Ko..._ ” Chloe purses her lips. “ _Konpyuutaa._ ”

“Don’t just use loan words from English!” Max scolds her pupil. “Come on, you know this.”

Chloe throws her torso down onto the table and gives a massive groan in protest. “This is too hard! Can’t we just go to the junkyard and smash car windows or something?”

Max crosses her arms and heaves a sigh. Chloe Price certainly hasn’t lost memory of her sense of stubbornness.

“All right,” Max says as she gathers the books and stuffs them back into her backpack. “I somehow knew this was going to happen. Time for Plan B.”

* * *

A short ride later in Chloe’s pickup, and the girls find themselves stepping into a private room at the Cool Kappa Karaoke Box.

“Are you sure you’re not the one with a traumatic head injury?” Chloe remarks while skeptically surveying her surroundings. “I may not remember everything perfectly, but I know for sure I wasn’t some karaoke dweeb.”

“The best way to practice language is to use it in a practical setting,” Max explains. She picks up the heavy book of track listings and starts flipping through. “When the Kingdom Hearts soundtrack came out, I made you translate all of the Utada Hikaru songs for me. Ah! Here we go.” Max walks over to the machine and punches in the code for her chosen song. “This was on the mix CD I made for you. You should remember it.”

Soon thereafter, the opening riff to “First Love” begins to play from the speakers.

“You know this,” Max beckons, trying to hand a microphone to Chloe. Chloe, meanwhile, just stares back with one eyebrow cocked way up high.

Realizing she needs to be the one to take initiative, Max starts in with the vocals.

_“Saigo no kisu wa tabako no flavor ga shita,_

_Nigakute setsunai kaori.”_

Max practically has to shove the microphone into Chloe’s hands. With a roll of her eyes, Chloe joins in, but definitely not the way Max had wanted.

_“If only you knew every moment in time,_

_Nothing goes on in my heart, just like your memories.”_

Max throws up her hands in frustration as Chloe goes on in English.

_“How I long to be with you once more.”_

When the chorus hits, the girls find themselves singing in dueling languages.

_“You were always gonna be the one_

_Itsuka darekato mata koi ni ochitemo. / And you should know how I wish I could have never let you go.”_

Max snatches the microphone from Chloe’s hands and raises her own volume.

_“I’ll remember to love, you taught me how._

_You are always gonna be the one._

_Ima wa mada kanashii love song_

_Atarashi uta utaeru made.”_

Before the second verse kicks in, Max hands the microphone back to Chloe and mouths to her, “Please.”

Chloe takes a deep breath.

_“Tachidomaru jikan ga_

_Ugoki dasouto shiteru._

_Wasureta kunai kotobakari.”_

Max beams a jubilant smile at Chloe’s effort.

_“Ashita no imagoro niwa,_

_Watashi wa kitto naiteru._

_Anatawo omotterundarou.”_

Chloe starts feeling more comfortable with the sound of the words on her tongue and starts to belt out the chorus.

_“You will always be inside my heart_

_Itsumo anata dake no basho ga aru kara_

_I hope that I have a place in your heart too.”_

Max joins in, the two of them finally starting to find their own sense of fun in this.

_“Now and forever you are still the one._

_Ima wa mada kanashii love song_

_Atarashii uta utaeru made.”_

Then something comes flashing in Chloe’s mind.

_“You are always gonna be my love_.”

Max’s soft cheek rests delicately against Chloe’s chest.

_“Itsuka darekato mata koi ni ochitemo.”_

The faint traces of lavender in Max’s shampoo.

_“I’ll remember to love, you taught me how.”_

Chloe uses her palm to brush the small of Max’s back. Max shudders gently in response.

_“You are always gonna be the one.”_

Max looks up, the mellow blue of her eyes soothing every worry and doubt in Chloe’s mind.

_“Mada kanashii love song.”_

Finally, the taste of bubblegum lip gloss.

“Chloe?”

Chloe snaps back to attention as the instrumental winds down.

“Are you OK?” Max stares back at Chloe, those mellow blue eyes having still remained.

“Um...” Chloe wonders how to explain the situation when she doesn’t understand it herself. “I think I just had a memory.”

“Really?” Max’s eyes light up. “What was it?”

“We...” Chloe sits down on the sofa and throws aside her microphone. “We kissed.”

Max lets out a gasp, more audible than she intended.

“I thought...” Chloe continues, “I mean, you told me you and I were never--”

“We weren’t,” Max is quick to clarify. “We never dated or slept together or anything like that. It was just the one kiss. Christmas, about four years ago. I kinda surprised you by announcing last minute I was going to come down to Arcadia Bay. We were dancing, and we stepped under the mistletoe. I thought it’d be funny. It was more of a joke than anything.”

“Dancing? To...”

“Yeah, to ‘First Love.’ Kinda why I thought about it tonight.”

A knocking comes on the door. Max is desperate for a diversion now, so she rushes over to answer it.

A male attendant greets her. “Good evening. The ID you provided says it’s your birthday.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe calls out.

The attendant goes on, “You are welcome to enjoy a complimentary mochi ice cream.” He holds out a plate with the dessert. Max tries to be as gracious as possible in accepting it. With a final wave, the attendant takes his leave.

Max walks back to the coffee table and sets down her plate.

“It’s your birthday?” Chloe seeks to reaffirm.

“Same day every year,” Max replies with a coy grin.

“Dude, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think now is the right time to make a big deal about myself.”

“Rachel didn’t even mention it.”

“I told her not to. My parents are coming to visit in a couple weeks. Don’t worry, they have more than enough celebration planned.”

“I don’t have a present for you or anything.”

“Stop worrying about that, please,” Max pleads. “Right now it’s all about you.”

Chloe has to ponder if the kiss honestly had been just a joke. But she won’t allow herself any more indulgence to focus on herself. Not today.

“OK,” Chloe says resolutely, “We just paid for one hour. So to commemorate the birth of the coolest best friend in the world, I say we get our jam on!”

Max laughs in joy.

“Pick the next track, hippie!”


	6. Flavor of the Weak

“This...” Max stammers, “This is awfully kind of you, Warren.” Before her in a modest white paper bakery box is a mass that could generously be described as a cake. It’s more accurately described as an uneven, lumpy mess with chocolate frosting smeared hastily to and fro and the white letters reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” already drooping down.

“Sorry it’s late,” Warren replies. “It took me far more attempts than I anticipated. The baking wasn’t so bad. It’s just science after all, but the decoration is more of the art. And I don’t think I’ve got quite the gift for that.”

“Well,” Max says as she takes the box from him, “You have your music, at least.”

“Actually, I was hoping I could ask for a favor in that department.”

“What is it?”

“You heard about Brooke?”

“Yeah, terrible skateboarding accident.”

“Right. She’s insisting she doesn’t want to perform in a cast, so now Warren Peace is down a vocalist.”

“‘Warren Peace’?” Max has to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle her laughter. “You decided on a band name finally?”

“I know it’s not perfect, but Taylor cornered me. Said she was needing to finalize the programs and I had to come up with something right on the spot.”

“Well,” Max clears her throat so as to fight off the fit of giggles. “How can I be of assistance to Warren Peace?”

“I’ve heard you around campus playing some songs on your Gibson. You’ve got the right vocal range for what we want to do.”

“You think so? I honestly just mess around. I haven’t performed seriously.”

“No really, your voice is great. I know there’s only a few weeks before the show, but it’s not too difficult a song to learn. I’m sure you can get it, no problem.”

“Um...” Max shrugs her slender shoulders. “I guess it could be fun to try.”

“That’s the spirit! You wanna get together to practice tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’m free after class tomorrow. But can we finish before 8? I watch Doctor Who on Thursdays.”

“Aha!” Warren exclaims. “Something told me you’re a fellow Whovian!”

“What can I say?” Max replies coyly. “I’m a sucker for time travel.”

* * *

Dr. Gupta shines a light into Chloe’s left eye, then her right. Both pupils dilate as normal.

“Everything seems to be checking out,” he remarks. “And you said you’re having less trouble with headaches now?”

“Yes,” Chloe responds. “There’s a friend of mine, she gave me some willow bark tea.”

“Willow bark?” Gupta sounds impressed. “Inspired idea. Tell your friend she’s got a mind for curatives. Any more luck with your memory?”

“Just one so far. But it’s...” Chloe rubs the back of her neck. The recollection of Max’s lips on hers throws a heavy shade of doubt on any conception of reality that Chloe was holding on to. “It seems to be really complicated.”

“Say no more. I don’t miss my teenage years whatsoever.”

“Maybe it’s for the better I’m not recalling as much. I’ve been reading through my diaries, and I’m just gonna be honest, I’ve been through some shit. Not sure all of that is worth remembering.”

“A fresh start can be a great privilege sometimes.”

“I just wish I could remember more of my dad. Everyone tells me how great he was, and I believe them. But it’s like I only have these shadows to show me what kind of man he was.”

“Yes, it is a challenge to be deprived of those kinds of memories. They are an important source of comfort for us all. But I think what matters is that those times with him were real, regardless of whether they seem real to you now. For the time that William had, you did your part to make his life the best it could be. Nothing else that happens, no accident, no matter how tragic, will take that away from you.”

Chloe tugs on her beanie as she lets the good doctor’s words sink in. She nods as she finds a certain solace in Gupta’s take.

As he inputs a few more notes into the computer, Chloe notices his wedding ring.

“You married, doc?”

“Ah,” he looks down at the golden band on his finger. “Yes, it was 25 years this past month.”

“Holy shit, I can hardly stand to eat the same breakfast cereal two weeks in a row.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gupta chuckles. “There is much patience required to keep things in harmony for so long.”

“How’d you guys meet?”

“It was an arranged marriage. I finished my final exams at University of Oregon, and not three days later I was landing in Mumbai getting introduced to my future wife.”

“Dude, I would be a complete wreck.”

“Throughout the entire flight, I was breaking my head to decide what I should say to her.”

“What did you settle on?”

“‘Hi.’ That’s it. Just ‘hi.’”

He and Chloe share a laugh.

“In a way, you’re lucky,” Chloe states. “It was all set up for you. You already knew what to expect. You didn’t have to navigate the emotional minefield that every single relationship ends up becoming. So many ways to fuck it up, and then you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

“Priyanka and I have had our challenges just like any other couple. We’ve learned to be accountable to one another. We’ve learned to push ourselves to make the right decision in the interest of each other. She has become a reliable partner and a caring mother for our children. And in return, I hope I don’t, as you say, ‘fuck it up’ too often.”

Chloe pats him on the shoulder. “Priyanka’s a lucky gal. Tell her I said that.”

“We’ll see if that merits an extra serving of malpura at dessert tonight.”

Chloe chuckles as she takes her denim jacket from the coat rack.

* * *

Upon arriving home, Chloe immediately starts up the stairs, just wanting to freshen up a bit before meeting up with Rachel that night.

This time, however, Joyce calls out to her. “Chloe honey, could you come here?”

Chloe reverses course and steps into the dining room. Joyce is seated at the table, and along with her is a man in his early thirties with scraggly dirty blond hair and unkempt beard. Two tattoos are emblazoned on his neck, a blackbird on the left side and flaming playing cards on the right. Another piece of ink (possibly a deer) pokes out from his shirt and nearly reaches his throat.

“Chloe, this young man is Frank Bowers,” Joyce explains. “He says he’s a friend of yours and has something important he needs to tell you.”

Chloe looks him over. “Sorry, I don’t--”

“Yeah,” Frank replies, “I heard you took a knock to your noggin. I was hoping you’d have gotten some of your memory back. It’d make this a hell of a lot easier. But it can’t wait anymore.”

Joyce gets up from her seat and sets her coffee mug in the sink. “My shift is about to start. I’ll give you folks some privacy.” She grabs her purse from the counter and heads out the door.

As Chloe looks back at Frank, she’s instantly struck by the dour expression he wears.

* * *

“Spotlights will be set up here and here,” Rachel explains the layout of the stage to Victoria Chase and Taylor Christensen. “The speakers have to be arranged so there isn’t feedback in the sound system. One in this corner and--”

The door to the Music Room clanks loudly as Chloe forcibly pulls it open and comes stomping toward the desk where Rachel, Victoria, and Taylor are congregated.

Gripping tightly a stack of Polaroids in her hand, Chloe calls out to Rachel, “Want to explain this?”

Rachel turns to Victoria and Taylor. “You two. Leave.”

Victoria and Taylor seem frozen by the severe intensity of the scene.

“Now!” Rachel hollers.

Victoria and Taylor scamper to scoop up their belongings and retreat from the room.

Chloe slams the photos on the desk. “What the fuck is this?” Chloe pushes again.

“Goddamnit, Frank,” Rachel mutters.

“Frank?!” Chloe cries out in disbelief. “You think Frank is the problem? Not your deceitful ass?”

“Chloe...” Rachel places her hands on the desk and hunches over, hanging her head. “Back when this started, I was struggling with so many things. If I tried to explain it all to you now, I don’t even think you’d believe me.”

“Maybe that was my problem in the first place. I never should’ve believed anything you said.”

“Can you just calm down?”

“Look, I’m sick of you running your mouth. God knows where the hell it’s been. I’m just here to say that you and I are done. From now on, you don’t talk to me. You don’t look at me. You don’t THINK about me! Got that?”

Chloe snatches up the photos with both hands and savagely rips them to shreds, being sure to punctuate the gesture by throwing the pieces back in Rachel’s face. Chloe turns on her heel and charges out of the room.

* * *

Chloe storms through the Blackwell hallway. She pays only minimal attention to her surroundings, although luckily other people are quick to step out of her way when they catch the look on her face. When enough of her rage dies down for her to regain functional awareness, she’s back in her truck. Drawing a deep, but still strained, breath, she decides she’s not in a condition to drive anywhere.

* * *

Chloe knocks on the door to Room 219, Max’s “favorite cocoon.” Some alternative rock track can be heard from the stereo.

_“I wish that I could make her see”_

It’s not really Max’s usual taste in music, is it?”

_“She’s just the flavor of the weak.”_

The door opens soon thereafter and indeed Max is there, albeit looking a bit confused for Chloe to be there.

“Hey, sorry to just drop in,” Chloe says.

“Yo, Max,” a male voice calls out from further down the hallway, “I didn’t know if you wanted peanut M&Ms or regular.”

Chloe scoffs at the sight of Warren cradling a large haul of junk food from the vending machine in his scrawny arms.

“I am REALLY sorry to just drop in,” Chloe resentfully remarks. “Clearly, I’m interrupting something.” She makes a beeline for the exit. It’s not until after she’s kicked open the door to the stairwell that Max catches up.

“Chloe, it’s not what you think,” Max pleads. “He just asked me to work on some music.”

“Right, that is exactly what it looked like you were doing,” Chloe shoots back.

“Can I just explain?”

“No, I understand it all perfectly fine. Everyone has moved on.”

Chloe rushes down the stairs, leaving Max with nothing but the hollow echo of her boots banging against the concrete.


	7. All About Us, part 1: Still Into You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wanting to know more specifics on what kind of "loss" Rachel is referring to in her confession to Chloe, I'd encourage you to read my previous work "Fireflies from Forever Ago." That's my head canon for what kind of trauma could compel Rachel to act so drastically against someone she does at the same time care for intensely.
> 
> Like I mention, I don't see Max singing the same way as Hayley Williams. My idea of how she would sound in this cover is more akin to the version by TeraBrite: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljyqUIOFmAM

By the time Chloe snaps back to attention, she can initially only notice John Waite’s saccharine vocals playing from a nearby FM radio.

_“I hear your name in certain circles,_

_And it always makes me smile.”_

Looking straight ahead, she sees David peering back at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” she addresses him.

“Socket wrench,” David requests.

Chloe reaches into the toolbox with her hands, which she now notices have been stained with grease. After fishing out the desired tool, she hands it to David, who starts adjusting a bolt near the engine of his muscle car.

“You know,” David speaks up again, “I haven’t seen Max or Rachel around here in a while.”

“Well,” Chloe scoffs, “In the words of every frat boy ever, ‘Bitches, huh?’”

David tosses the wrench back into the toolbox and starts wiping his hands with a cloth. “As you can imagine, I didn’t think much of either of them when we first met.”

“How surprising for you,” Chloe remarks dryly.

“But once I realized they weren’t going anywhere, I at least had to acknowledge that they both cared very much for you, and they were always trying to do what they believed would help you. I never agreed with how they were doing that, but there was never any denying their intent.”

“Somewhere along the line, I guess they both got tired of babysitting my feelings.”

“Look, I get that with the memory loss, you’re reacting to everything like it’s the first time. Right now it’s like you’re getting hurt for the first time, and I’m sure that’s gonna be hard to go through. I don’t know the specifics of what all you’ve been through with them, and I don’t wanna know. But I’m sure the three of you have made your own share of mistakes by each other. Maybe all I’m trying to say is that none of us would be anywhere in life if we hadn’t been shown some forgiveness in the past.”

Chloe fiddles with the three bullets on her necklace.

David directs his gaze behind Chloe. “Speaking of,” he remarks.

Chloe turns around to see Max carrying a modest paper bag in one hand and sheepishly waving with the other.

“Good afternoon, Max,” David says.

“Hi, David,” she responds. Max is less confident in her next address, “How are you, Chloe?”

Chloe releases the bullets from between her fingers and makes a few adjustments to her beanie. “Hey. I’m fine.”

“I think I’ll go inside for some lemonade,” David announces. “Either of you need anything?”

“It’s all right,” Chloe says.

Max shakes her head.

Throwing the cloth over his shoulder, David walks back into the house.

_“And it’s my heart that’s breaking_

_Down this long-distance line tonight.”_

Max holds up her humble brown paper bag. “I remember you liked the mochi from Cool Kappa. So I brought some from the Asian market.”

“The one in Corvallis? That’s like, an hour away.”

“Yeah, I asked Warren to drive me.”

“At least that jabroni’s good for something.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I just had to listen to a lot of rambling about something called Code Geass.”

“If only he knew every word out of his mouth is just another notch getting tightened on that chastity belt.”

Max giggles at Chloe’s playfully irreverent humor. It had always been a trademark of Chloe’s. Chloe is, as usual, charmed by Max’s demure adorkable-ness.

“Listen,” Chloe finally steps closer to her, “I overreacted when I saw him at your dorm. I’m sorry. I was just on edge about Rachel.”

“Yeah, she told me,” Max grimaces. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m just taking my time being self-indulgent in my moping. I’ll handle it eventually. But thanks for showing you care.” Chloe places a hand on Max’s shoulder to reassure her.

Max nods. “As long as you’re sure.”

“Got any plans tonight?”

Max shrugs her shoulders noncommittally.

“Meatloaf and broccoli-mushroom casserole for dinner tonight,” Chloe announces in a singsong tone. “Wanna stay?”

“Yum!” Max’s eyes open wide. “Oh, and I missed Doctor Who last week, so I have it saved on my laptop.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, the Doctor.”

“Who?”

“That’s right, from Doctor Who.”

“Who the fuck are you talking about?”

“Yes, I’m talking about him!”

“WHO?!”

_“I ain’t missing you._

_I ain’t missing you._

_I can lie to myself.”_

* * *

The final rehearsals for Battle of the Bands are taking place in Blackwell’s auditorium. Presently, Dana Ward is performing a duet with boyfriend Trevor.

 _“Just a second. We’re not broken, just bent.”_

Rachel sits in the audience, taking some notes for some adjustments she wants made to the lighting.

_“And we can learn to love again.”_

Chloe enters through the back door.

 _“It’s in the stars. It’s been written in the scars of our hearts.”_

Chloe scans the crowd. She notices Rachel seated dead center in the middle row.

 _“That we’re not broken, just bent.”_

Chloe crosses her arms and leans against the side wall, waiting for the song to finish.

_“And we can learn to love again.”_

The piano outro plays to conclude the song, and the lights return to normal.

“Great job, guys,” Rachel calls out. She stands from her seat and turns around to look at all the other performers waiting their turn. As she glances around, she notices Chloe in the back. Rachel anxiously taps at her clipboard with her pen. “Ten minute break,” she announces. “When we get back, we’ll continue with...” Rachel sighs in exasperation as she reads the next name from the roster. “The Zachaholics.”

“Woot woot!” Zachary Riggins hollers.

“Very nice, Riggins, did you come up with that all by yourself?”

The attendees all begin to file out of the room. Chloe doesn’t bother to meet their gawking. The only reaction she gives is to Max, who mouths to her “You OK?” Chloe raises a firm thumbs up.

Rachel sits back down. Chloe marches down the steps and takes the seat next to her. They both decide it’s easier if they don’t have to look each other in the eyes.

“Everyone’s sounding really good. You deserve a lot of credit for putting all this together,” Chloe comments. “But I was surprised you didn’t sign up to perform. I read about The Tempest in my diary.”

Rachel smirks.

“I bet you could’ve won this thing,” Chloe proclaims.

“Contrary to what others may say,” Rachel says, “I don’t always need all the glory for myself.” She does find the will to turn her hazel eyes to Chloe.

Chloe meets her gaze with a steely blue stare.

They both need a beat to shore up their nerves.

“I know I should be saying sorry,” Rachel states, “And I really am. Please believe me. I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about all of it. I don’t think I can tell you everything you deserve to know.”

Rachel takes Chloe’s hand. Chloe finds traces of a familiar warmth in Rachel’s touch, but a shift in Rachel’s feelings can nevertheless be felt in her touch this time.

Rachel goes on, “What I’ve realized and what I can share with you is that long before I met you, I’d already gone through this tremendous loss. I’m still trying to understand the full impact it’s had on me. So much of the way I’ve become, including everything with Frank, it’s because I was trying to get back at least some, just any little bit, of what I’d lost.”

Chloe finds herself squeezing Rachel’s hand in return. Chloe was no stranger to loss, either.

“But that’s not how it should be for you,” Rachel continues. “I shouldn’t have made you some replacement part in my life. I should’ve made YOU my life. I should’ve made it all about you.”

Chloe contemplates if she herself is in fact deserving of that, if in fact love can actually operate like that.

Rachel speaks further, “I need some time. To figure out what I want my life to be about. If I find out that should be you, then I’ll do the Say Anything routine.”

Chloe laughs aloud at the prospect of Rachel standing on the front lawn holding up a boom box playing “In Your Eyes.”

“I realize you may have moved on by then,” Rachel concludes. “But I’ll leave it to destiny. What’s meant to be, will be. You deserve someone who’s with you all the way. No reservation or doubt. Believe me, you deserve that.”

Rachel leans forward and wraps her arms around Chloe in a tight embrace. Once again, Chloe perceives a shift in the feelings Rachel is looking to convey. But Chloe decides that this shift is what they both need right now.

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Juliet Watson speaks from the stage that had been built on the Blackwell Campus. “It’s my pleasure and privilege to welcome you to Blackwell Academy’s tenth Battle of the Bands!”

The crowd, filled with students, parents, and faculty alike, erupts in an extended cheer. Chloe and Rachel stand together among them.

“Tonight, Blackwell’s most talented performers put it all on the line,” Courtney Wagner chimes in, “As they compete for a one-thousand-dollar cash prize and what’s more, the winning band will perform a full set at the annual Blackwell prom.”

“So let’s get the show started with...” Juliet looks down at her flashcard but regards the name of the first act with some puzzlement. “Warren Peace.” She lowers her microphone and talks directly to Courtney. “That’s seriously their name?”

Courtney shrugs. “Just get on with it. Give it up for Warren Peace!”

The crowd still offers up applause as the band members walk onto the stage: Warren Graham on lead guitar, Stella Hill on drums, Daniel DaCosta on bass, and of course, Max Caulfield on vocals. They’re all dressed in outfits meant to mimic the motif of the Umbrella Academy comic series: dark gray formal jackets with maroon lining, checkered sweater vests over white dress shirts and black neckties, long black socks and black dress shoes. The boys wear dark shorts and the girls wear plaid skirts.

Max has on her head a navy blue beanie, but as she steps up to the microphone, she removes her headwear to reveal flowing locks which have now been dyed a vivid bright orange, no doubt in tribute to Hayley Williams.

Audible gasps flare up from the audience, and Chloe and Rachel can only look at each other with wide open mouths.

Stella taps her drumsticks together three times, and the rest of the band starts to play.

 _“Can’t count the years on one hand that we’ve been together.”_

Chloe and Rachel get over their initial shock soon enough to start cheering in support for their best friend.

_“I need the other one to hold you,_

_Make you feel, make you feel better.”_

Max’s voice doesn’t pack the same oomph as Williams’, but the earnestness of her performance and the heart she puts into her effort has the crowd hooked.

 _“It’s not a walk in the park to love each other.”_

She starts bobbing her head along to the heavy beat, her orange hair swishing around her all the while.

 _“But when the fingers interlock, can’t deny, can’t deny you’re worth it.”_

She steps up on top of a nearby speaker, eliciting another delighted cheer from the audience.

 _“And after all this time, I’m still into you.”_

While Stella speeds up her drums, Max hops down to the stage once more and steps right to the edge to be as near to her admirers as possible.

_“I should be over all the butterflies,_

_But I’m into you.”_

Chloe can’t help but beam back at Max like a proud parent, overwhelmed at how this wallflower now is effortlessly putting the people in the palm of her hand.

_“And, baby, even on the worst nights,_

_I’m into you.”_

And then something wholly unexpected. In Chloe’s mind, there flashes another memory. This time of Rachel:

**“You’re the real thing, Chloe. I don’t know anyone like you.”**

_“Let ‘em wonder how we got this far”_

**“We shall fly beyond this isle--the corners of the world our mere prologue.”**

_“‘Cause I don’t really need to wonder at all.”_

**“I love this time of night! Don’t you just feel like everything’s possible?”**

_“Yeah, after all this time,”_

**“Newsflash, Chloe. I’m a little crazy.”**

_I’m still into you.”_

**“As long as we can still see them, that means they’re real. To us.”**

_“Some things just, some things just make sense,_

_And one of those is you and I.”_

An elbow poking into her arm wrests Chloe’s attention. She comes to in time to see Rachel staring back at her.

Rachel calls out above the noise, “Are you all right?”

Chloe nods slowly. Having been able to recollect at least some few key snippets of her past with Rachel has let her know just how meaningful their friendship has been. Chloe does feel encouraged that no matter what becomes of their relationship, it will always be a source of strength and support for one another.

_“Some things just, some things just make sense,_

_And even after all this time.”_

After Max sings this line, she leaps toward the audience, and they catch her for a crowd surf.

_“I’m into you.”_

The fans carry her to and fro. Their enthusiasm and spirit bolsters her own and compels her to keep giving it her all even despite her usual anxiety in being the center of attention.

 _“Baby, not a day goes by that I’m not into you.”_

By now, they’ve returned Max to the stage. As she launches into the final chorus, more memories begin to return for Chloe.

_“I should be over all the butterflies,_

_But I’m into you.”_

**“Maybe you made a move on me, and I would never know.”**

_“And, baby, even on the worst nights,_

_I’m into you.”_

**“Can we build another pirate fort and shut the world out?”**

_“Let ‘em wonder how we got this far.”_

**“I don’t think anybody’s good enough for you. Besides me.”**

_“‘Cause I don’t really need to wonder at all.”_

**“I double dare you. Kiss me now.”**

_“Yeah, after all this time,”_

**“All those moments between us were real, and they will always be ours.”**

_“I’m still into you.”_

**“Max...”**

_“I’m still into you.”_

**“I’ll always be with you...”**

_“I’m still into you.”_

**“Forever.”**

As the song crashes to an end, all the fans in unison immediately burst into fervent applause and cheering. Max stands relieved to have conquered the challenge and elated to be receiving all the adulation.

Chloe, meanwhile, remains frozen.

“Seriously, are you OK?” Rachel is now standing in front of Chloe and gripping her shoulders.

“N...no,” Chloe shakes her head, slowly at first but quickly speeding up. “I...” she gasps for breath. “I need to see Max.”


	8. All about Us, part 2: Panic (at the Prom)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 7 was the date when Max started her adventures through time. Happy seventh anniversary to the beginning of this wonderful adventure, which has captivated us for all this time.
> 
> By the way, I can't take credit for the idea of Chloe wearing a tux to prom. That concept was first espoused by Ghost_in_the_Hella in her work "Forget Me Not." Definitely check that out for yourself, and you'll be instantly sold on this presentation of Chloe, just as I was.

“That was incredible!” Warren bounds down the steps leading to the backstage area, the other members of Warren Peace in tow. Silly name aside, there’s no doubt this band dominated that performance, and Warren’s compatriots are equally elated at the reaction they’ve gotten from the audience. “Max, you were the real MVP here.”

“We’ve never sounded that good before,” Stella remarks.

“Indubitably,” Daniel adds.

Max giggles in delight. “I’m glad to help. I had a great time, actually. Thanks so much for letting me join.”

“Max,” Chloe could be heard calling out from a distance.

“Hey, Chloe,” Max greets Chloe with a wide grin as she approaches the group. “How’d you like the song?”

“It was...” Chloe wrings her hands, mind clearly somewhere else. “I thought it was great, truly. Awesome job, you all.”

Warren high-fives Stella and Daniel.

Chloe turns to Max. “Can I talk to you alone?”

“Oh.” Max is a bit taken aback by Chloe’s grave demeanor. “Sure.” She turns to her bandmates. “Can you excuse us?”

“All right,” Warren replies. “We’ll go catch the rest of the show.”

Courtney can be heard speaking from the stage, “Performing ‘Bubble Pop!’, a very close friend of mine, your eyes and ears to the stage please, for Victoria Chase!”

“Actually I wanted to see this,” Warren says while leaving to join the crowd, that same dopey smirk plastered across his mug.

Stella rolls her eyes and Daniel just shrugs as they follow him away.

Max looks back at Chloe, “Everything OK?”

Chloe bemusedly laughs to herself. She’s about to present a topic that she hasn’t even been able to fully comprehend as reality. “I just had a memory.”

“Really?” Max asks hopefully.

“A fuck ton of them, actually,” Chloe clarifies. “But there were ones between you and me, and they just didn’t make any sense.”

“What...” Max feels the heat rising up from under the collar of her shirt. “What do you mean?”

“Like, I was telling you to kiss me. But you looked like you do now, not from four years ago like you were saying about the first time we kissed.”

“Holy shit...” Max says under her breath. Chloe attention is too tangled up in her own thoughts to have caught it.

“And we were standing on the cliff by the lighthouse,” Chloe goes on, “With this giant motherfucker of a cyclone or hurricane or something charging toward the town. But if that thing had actually landed here, this place would be just be a pile of matchsticks now. So there’s no way.” She stops only to catch her breath. Looking back at Max, Chloe searches for some kind of affirmation that she hasn’t lost her mind. “There’s no way, right?”

* * *

“That’s...” Chloe’s words stick in her dry throat. She swallows hard. “That’s impossible. How can you expect me to believe that?”

“I know it sounds batshit insane,” Max admits.

“You traveled through time?”

“Completely unintentional.” Max anxiously tussles her hair. “I really should’ve just waited to call you, huh?” She forces a grin in the hopes of instilling some levity.

Chloe mutely plods over to spare amplifier being stored backstage. Her legs have weakened on account of all her conscious energy being directed toward wrapping her head around everything, and she has to sit down.

“Well,” Chloe places both hands on her knees to better support her upper body, “Why didn’t you try to win the lottery or something?”

“There’s consequences to changing the timeline,” Max explains. “You got paralyzed in the car accident because I saved your dad. The storm came because I saved you. It’s a huge risk to mess with things.”

“Then you knew about Frank too?”

“I had to be really careful with what risks I’d take. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t justify telling you. I saved Rachel because I felt it was worth the risk. I guess the consequence was you started your relationship with her, and I...” Max feels a solitary tear roll down her freckled cheek. “I lost my chance.”

Max buries her face in her hands as she starts crying in earnest. Chloe springs up to her feet and snatches Max’s trembling body in a tight embrace. Max instinctively responds by wrapping her arms around Chloe’s waist. Max cries for a few moments more into Chloe’s Firewalk T-shirt.

Once the sobs abate, Max speaks up again, “I guess now I know how you felt all those years when I left you alone.”

Chloe rubs Max’s back a few times. “You should’ve just told me how you felt. When I called you that Christmas and you actually picked up, you should’ve just come out and said it.”

“I was too afraid,” Max confesses. “Same old shit with me, doesn’t matter which timeline I’m in.”

“Hey,” Chloe releases Max and gently grasps her by the shoulders to look in her eyes. “You are no doubt the bravest person I know. You got lost in motherfucking time, and here you are still trying to help people. You’re amazing, don’t ever think any different.”

Max summons up a meek smile. “You know, back when I first got here, I was trying to tell myself that you’re a different Chloe. So maybe I wouldn’t end up feeling the same way. But it turns out you’re still all the things I remember, everything I loved before. I guess that’s how amazing YOU are.”

“I’m awesome in any universe. Nothing stops me,” Chloe jests.

“The annoying parts are still here too,” Max pokes back.

Chloe looks Max in those wide brown eyes. “I hope you understand if I can’t just pick up where you and I left off, you know, in the other time,” Chloe states apologetically. “I’m basically starting from scratch when it comes to you. I’m not entirely sure I’m totally over this thing with Rachel yet.”

“Yes, I know,” Max replies. Despite her usual lingering doubts about the specifics of the future, she’s nevertheless relieved to be able to reveal the truth about everything to the one person she trusts the most.

“In the end,” Chloe continues, “We have to let everything play out on its own. If we’re meant to be, we’ll end up together. That’s the only way it can happen.”

Max can summon a nod, imbuing this gesture with as much optimism as she can muster.

“But just letting you know,” Chloe suddenly grows deathly serious, “If you’re still as lousy of a kisser as I remember, you don’t stand a chance.”

Max playfully slaps a guffawing Chloe on the arm.

“So,” Chloe concludes. “Any plans for tonight?”

Max gives a relieved sigh and smiles back.

* * *

“Stop! Fidgeting!” Rachel commands.

“How much longer is it going to be?” Chloe whines.

“You don’t rush art.”

“You’re not doing the Sistine Chapel, just covering up my pimple. Now how much longer?”

“If you would’ve taken my advice and stopped living off Hot Pockets and Totino’s, you maybe wouldn’t have this problem in the first place. As I always say, ‘The body--’”

“‘Body is a temple,’ blah blah blah.”

Rachel grumbles silently as she applies the final finishing touch to Chloe’s makeup.

“And that should be fine.” Rachel hands a mirror to Chloe. “What do you think?”

“Phew!” Chloe exclaims as she inspects the right side of her chin. The pulsating red mass that just this morning had threatened to loom over her prom night now is no longer quite so noticeable. “I know Anakin Skywalker basically ruined any chance of this expression being taken seriously, but you really are an angel.”

“Chloe Price actually giving a damn about how she looks? I just had to come see for myself.”

“I figure I only get one prom in my life. It won’t hurt to try one night.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“I’m still surprised you’re skipping.”

“Believe me, my life has been enough of a teenybopper cliché. It’s time to move on. I really should get started on my campus tours in California.”

“Still aiming for Pepperdine?”

“That’s my dream,” Rachel confirms. “But I’ve also got USC and, as a last resort, only if completely necessary as a desperation move,” she sighs heavily, “UCLA.”

“Any school will be lucky to have you.”

“I’d rather Malibu have me,” Rachel remarks with a sassy grin. “By the way,” she adds while placing her cosmetics back into her purse, “My mom’s meeting me in Long Beach.”

“Your mom?” Chloe’s eyes go wide. “You found her?”

“She reached out to me actually. Told me about the time she met you.”

“Oh...” Chloe had read about this too in her diary and feels a pang of guilt over having hidden such a significant detail that she’s sure Rachel would’ve liked to have known about.

“She told me she asked you not to say anything. I guess back then she wasn’t ready to meet me yet.”

Chloe nods reassuringly.

Rachel goes on, “It’s good to keep that in mind, right? Only do something when you feel ready.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m a wreck,” Rachel responds quite plainly. She gives a nervous chuckle. “But I know I want this. I’ll take whatever comes of it.”

“Good luck.” This time it’s Chloe who embraces Rachel in a comforting gesture.

The two girls give their final goodbyes for this day. Rachel offers a sly wink before placing her Gucci shades over her hazel eyes.

With a deep breath to steel her nerves, Chloe looks to the garment rack, where her outfit for tonight is hanging.

* * *

“And...smile!” Ryan Caulfield snaps a photo of his daughter standing at the front steps of Blackwell Academy. Max wears a long, pale pink strapless gown and silver wedge heels.

“You look so lovely tonight,” Vanessa adds as she makes some final adjustments to Max’s hair (which has remained bright orange since Battle of the Bands).

“I do apologize for my dear daughter’s lateness,” Joyce states.

“Always operating on her own time,” David comments.

“I’m used to it,” Max says with a laugh.

As if on cue, Chloe can be seen approaching from across the street. Her choice of attire for tonight is outstandingly bold and unequivocally her own. She dons a baby blue tuxedo with a black bowtie and a white ruffled shirt under the jacket. A blue butterfly is pinned to her left lapel. Rounding out the ensemble are some red, white, and blue bowling shoes (undoubtedly scrounged up from American Rust).

Chloe seems quite proud of herself for all the eyes she’s catching. But she only meets the one gaze she cares about most. Locking her own blue eyes with Max’s, Chloe delights in Max’s adoring stare.

“Chloe...” Max stammers for a moment, “You...”

“I get it,” Chloe suavely brushes back her blue locks, “I defy human expression.”

“All right, just one final photo, and then we gotta get going,” David announces, “Don’t wanna miss our reservation at Rue Altimore.”

“But we can’t forget about this,” Chloe holds up a corsage of pink spray roses and baby’s breath. She takes Max’s hand and slips it onto her wrist. Max regards the offering with heartfelt gratitude.

“Stand together then,” Ryan beckons.

Max and Chloe get next to one another, Chloe wasting no time to throw her arm around a blushing Max’s slender waist. Chloe sticks out her tongue and throws up the devil horns with her free hand while Max makes an impish smile of her own.

“Got it.” Ryan captures the image on his camera.

“Both of you have a wonderful time,” Joyce says to the two girls.

“But always remember to be careful and responsible,” David clarifies.

“Don’t worry,” Chloe assures them all, “It’s not like I can knock her up at the after-party.”

This draws varying degrees of laughter from the crowd.

The last farewells are exchanged, and eventually the parents take off to their dinner.

Before Max and Chloe can have a moment to themselves, though, Brooke calls for them. “Max! Chloe! Both of you look amazing!”

“So do you, Brooke,” Max replies, highlighting Brooke’s little black dress.

“Congrats on your win in Battle of the Bands,” Brooke offers graciously. “But I was surprised you didn’t choose to perform with the group tonight.”

“I’m happy to be a one-hit wonder,” Max responds. “No way I could handle playing a full set. I really thought you should’ve taken the spot, though. You were the original lead singer anyway.”

“You know,” Brooke says with crossed arms, “I think I’m getting tired of waiting for Warren to open his eyes. If he doesn’t intend to see me as I am, I can find someone who will.”

“Hey, Brooke!” Steph Gingrich, in her mint green halter dress with accompanying long black gloves, waves to her date.

Max and Chloe exchange stunned glances.

“You girls have a great night.” Brooke flashes them both a winning smile and goes to join Steph.

Finally with a chance to focus just on each other, all our partners in time can do is gaze expectantly at one another.

“So,” Chloe breaks the ice, as is custom, “Shall we?”

“Yes, but can I make one request?” Max sheepishly asks.

“What is it?”

“I...” Max laughs to herself. “I want to hold your hand.”

“You what?” Chloe chuckles too.

“We need to be careful going up the stairs,” Max adds. “If you were to lose your memory again, I’m not sure I’d be so lucky for you to pick me again.”

Chloe steps toward Max. “No matter what,” Chloe takes Max’s freckled face into both hands, “You’re always you. I’m always me.” Her thumb is in position to swipe away a tear from Max’s cheek. “So I’ll always pick you.”

Her confidence buoyed like never before, Max lunges forward and plants a kiss to Chloe’s lips. Chloe leaps back a little at Max’s uncharacteristic assertiveness, but quickly decides she likes it and lets the kiss linger.

Max sighs contentedly as she pulls away. “Let’s go then.” She holds out her hand, Chloe clasping it with her own.

As they climb the few stairs leading up to the Blackwell front lawn, the musical stylings of Warren Peace can be heard triumphantly blaring from inside the gymnasium.

_“Burn down the disco._

_Hang the blessed DJ.”_

They walk up the stairs without saying anything, but all at once the two know all they mean to express to one another. The meaning for them both is held not only in their words, but in everything that’s held in their bond. For as long as they can remember, this is why the presence of the other has always provided such profound comfort.

_“Because the music that they constantly play,_

_It says nothing to me about my life.”_

They reach the top of the stairs. Their initial goal accomplished, Chloe isn’t quite satisfied and instead pulls Max into a full-out sprint toward the gym.

_“Hang the blessed DJ_

_Because the music they constantly play.”_

Max stumbles slightly as she’s startled by the suddenness of Chloe’s movement, but she manages to gain her footing soon enough to keep up with the tuxedoed girl.

_“On the Leeds side-streets that you slip down,_

_The provincial towns you jog ‘round,”_

Chloe reaches the door first, so she pulls it open and holds it for Max.

_“Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.”_

Max storms through and into the throng of fellow prom attendees, Chloe following closely in tow.

_“Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.”_

Tonight they are just stepping into a simple school dance, just as many young people will do on this night and will continue to do for many nights yet to come. But what’s important is they are stepping toward their future together. Because time is a constantly changing force, often shifting its will outside the control of the rank-and-file humans. But with the right partner, it’s clear that all can be conquered.

_“Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.”_


End file.
